Homeowner’s insurance is not an incredibly exciting topic. Many homeowners pay the bill through their mortgage payment, so your interactions with the insurance company providing the product are typically minimal. It’s the epitome of what we in the marketing profession call a low-involvement category. You have to have it, you have to choose a company to provide it, and you hope you never use it. When you think about it, that’s a pretty odd product, yet we in America spend millions of dollars on it every year.
That said, the specific group of Americans who buy the product is constantly evolving. As the demographics of the country change, smart marketers must pay attention to these generational 
shifts. Baby Boomers and Gen Xers first bought homeowner’s insurance decades ago. Meanwhile, the youngest Millennials (Gen Y) and oldest Gen Zers are careening down their #adulting journeys with many buying homes for the first time, and thus inevitably discovering homeowner’s insurance.
It is in this context that Progressive Insurance spawned Dr. Rick. He’s a life coach who, we know now, helps young homeowners from turning into their parents. The results are brilliant and for me, excruciatingly painful, in all the right ways.
I cringe and smile when Dr. Rick graces my screen because the scenarios where the good doctor coaches up his greenhorn proteges are simple life moments that I have absolutely experienced. Have I shopped at a clothing store and picked out a shirt almost identical to three shirts I already have? Yes. Have I owned a piece of home décor artwork filled with an incredibly cliché and banal expression of optimism? 100 percent. Have I been at a mall and contemplated the air conditioning tonnage it must take to cool a structure like that? Ugh. Unfortunately, that’s also a most definite yes.
By now, Dr. Rick is no longer new but, instead of becoming stale, he continues to churn out more comedic agony. Take the valet ad where a too-eager Dr. Rick mentee is fascinated with the operational nuances of the valet stand. Or the job site ad where more Dr. Rick neophytes interrupt a work crew with questions. Lastly, one of my favorites is a montage where Dr. Rick’s well-intentioned homeowners dole out instructions to the grocery clerk, try to help out at the coffee shop, and interrupt a fellow restaurant patron. I could see myself doing any of these things. I have seen my Dad do these things.
That’s why these work. Making ads involves a lot of moving parts and pieces–likely much more than the general public realizes–and everything in this series is perfect. The sad piano music signals the beginning of another teachable moment. The wardrobe and prop choices (like Keith’s wallet when he’s explaining where to bag the sandwich cookies) reflect a group of likeable but flawed individuals who are unwittingly stumbling towards middle age. And Dr. Rick’s delivery is genius every time. He admonishes his proteges, yet is somehow a little bit nurturing even through his frustration—like he won’t give up on them.
In my opinion, it all makes for a fantastic stroke of marketing craftsmanship. In fact, if I hadn’t put this dadgum blog online, I would even consider mailing a good old-fashioned letter to the company. That’s what my Dad would do.
